Monday, 9 June 2014

A while back, I made a small change. It was not huge, and I mostly did it as a temporary measure. I would wear concealer and cover-up to hide blemishes and bulging pimples. It didn't make them entirely go away, but it tended to even out my skin tone a bit. But it also seemed to clog my pores even more, which meant more pimples and blackheads and general grossness. It was the vicious cycle of blech. But I had one breakout about a month ago that got so bad that I could not put anything on my skin for a couple of weeks. I had to go to work with big red scabs, oozing zits, and all that amazing stuff that you see on zombie movies.
As they were healing, I came across this video.

I totally love the song and the message. Granted, I realize that she is not actually being "Photoshopped"but just layering video with cuts of her with different makeup, lighting, hair, etc. Regardless, it shows that THIS is what girls look to. We are told, overtly and subconsciously, that we are supposed to have highlights in our hair, smouldering eye makeup, flawless complexion, striking eyes, rosy lips, and a light pleasing skin tone. Maybe a skinny neck, too. Add a thigh gap and you're golden.

I have never had flawless skin. I have freckles, pimples, and I could crush a walnut with my thighs. There is absolutely no gap there. My skin burns really easily and I don't tan. My hair is poker straight and is a dirty blonde shade - my Baba says that it will probably turn bullshit brown like hers did. For the past few months I have been adding raspberry-red chunks of colour for fun, but definitely not for anything other than to add to my love of bright colours.

But after my forced make-up withdrawl and this video, I made a decision.

I stopped wearing makeup to work.

I feel like I can be a role model for my middle school students who are
at the age where they are starting to figure out what they are supposed
to be. That they don't need makeup to be beautiful or express themselves.
I also feel like they could very well be pointing at me and laughing behind my back.

After years of covering up my natural skin and reading fashion magazines, this is something that I am still getting used to. I have focused a lot of energy on being physically and mentally strong. Now it's time to be brave.

Right now I feel naked.
Right now I feel vulnerable.
Right now I feel unpretty.

Tuesday, 3 June 2014

Being a mother of three does not allow for a lot of one-on-one time with each spawn. Between school, work, meals, cleaning, bathing, have you brushed your teeth? No you didn't let me check. Ew. I can smell shrimp and you've never eaten shrimp. And I just scraped off enough plaque to clog an artery. Get back in there and brush for the ENTIRE alphabet song. TWICE.

And then there is bedtime. Three kids mean we are outnumbered. 3 nights of the week I am the solo parent in the evening, which means I somehow have to sever my arms so that I can scratch Keesadilla's back, lightly tickle iBean's back and lay there while Sashimi wraps his entire body over me to fall asleep. Needless to say, the one-on-one is more precious than saffron. That's right. SAFFRON.

Tonight, T took Sashimi to a baseball game and iBean wanted to go with. Keesadilla said he'd rather stay with me. To be honest, I was a bit shocked. Baseball games always come with the implicit promise of candy and treats and staying up late. iBean is totally onto this already. I WANNA GOOOOOO! You grab my potty for me to pee. No, I don't want my black shoes they give me owies. I want my Tinkerbell shoes I DO IT MYSEFFFFF! Byeeee Mommy Bummy!

So it was me and K-man. Pondering life. Hanging out. Maybe we'd play a board game, read a book, draw...
K: Mommy!!! Can we go to the Reddi-mart for a treat?? **Insert batting eyes and a ridiculous smirk that makes me melt because I know that came out of ME.
Me: Well, what kind of treat do you want? Do we have to go to the Reddi-mart? It's the FARTHEST store from our house. We can go to a closer store.
K: But I really want those small round chips in the round tube. You know, the ones you can ONLY get at Reddi-mart!
Me: You mean Pringles? Dude, you can get those anywhere.
K: NOOOOO, not the little tubes. I want a little one.

Well, you can't turn down a kid who has portion control figured out.

After our adventure into the fantastically overpriced convenience food market, I told him he really needed a bath. He had done some sort of Smurf art at school and he totally blue himself. So he had a bath and I hopped in quickly to wash my hair. Yes, I occasionally bathe with my kids. Don't fixate on that. He's in kindergarten. To him it's still hilarious to dump water all over my head and watch me blubber for breath.
This time, though, he looked down at his chest and rubbed his nipples.

K: Mommy, am I supposed to be girl with these things?
Me: Keesadilla, EVERYONE has them. Boys and girls. But only girls grow breasts when they become teenagers because when they become mommies, they fill up with milk for their babies.
K: A kid in my class said they are called boobies.
Me: Yeah, I guess you can say that. That's sort of like calling your penis a weenie.
K: HAHAHAHAHA. WEENIE! So what happens to boys if we don't get boobies?
Me: Well, your penis will get bigger.
K: I know THAT. I mean, Daddy's is HUGE. Like way huge. Mine is just a teeny penis. Why does it need to get SO BIG? It's just for peeing.
Me: .............
K: OH WAIT. I get it. Because Daddies have way more pee than boys.
Me: Yes. Yes. That's right. How about we have a popsicle and watch TV?
K: YEA!!!!! *forgets about huge penises and boobies*

Sex Ed. You heard it here first. Daddies get HUGE penises for all their pee. And that's it. Nothing else EVER.